


Catalyst

by VelvetInferno



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Due to the lust potion, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Fsub, Impregnation, Impregnation Kink, Lust Potion/Spell, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, aphrodisiac, mdom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29403264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetInferno/pseuds/VelvetInferno
Summary: A potion accident sends Harry and Hermione out of their minds with lust, forcing them to rely on each other to satisfy themselves.  What follows is a journey of mutual discovery- a sexual awakening that will change Harry and Hermione's relationship forever.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 27
Kudos: 240





	1. Chapter 1

Harry, as it so happened, had been the one to notice Malfoy lobbing a Chizperfle fang into Hermione’s potion. Hermione was intent on stirring her cauldron the correct number of times, but Harry wasn’t as inclined to put much effort in, knowing that no matter what he did Snape would fail him. While this made his potions worse, it did mean that he had the awareness to notice the projectile Malfoy had launched. He lunged forward to catch it, and he’d almost been fast enough, but not quite. “Hermione! Get back!” Harry shouted, not knowing what effect the addition might have. Often, it was highly explosive.

Hermione only had a moment to reel back slightly before the potion began to bubble violently, splattering droplets in all directions. At least it wasn’t an explosion or a total meltdown. Harry grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her back while their classmates gave the cauldron a wide berth. It was a little late for her, however. The potion had splattered droplets onto her face, into her thick hair, and on her clothes. Harry wasn’t spared either, though he didn’t have it nearly as badly as Hermione had.

“Evanesco!” Snape barked, vanishing the potion in the cauldron, before turning to the pair of them and did the same. “Fifteen points from Gryffindoor, for each of you for your foolishness.”

Harry grit his teeth, wanting to shout at him that it was Malfoy’s fault, that Hermione paid painstaking detail to every potion she brewed, but he knew that it would be for nothing. Instead, he just furiously returned to his potion, not really expecting to be able to salvage it. Hermione just let out a soft sigh, staring down at her empty cauldron, defeated.

“Snape and Malfoy are gits” Harry grumbled on their way out of class, knowing that Hermione was too upset to complain about his ‘disrespect towards a professor’. “I’m just glad that the potion hasn’t you know, done anything.”

“As far as potions accidents go… I’ve had worse.” Hermione said, perhaps referencing the Polyjuice incident in their second year. She fell in step behind Harry as the made their way up a stairwell “Generally potions are fast acting, though, so if we haven’t noticed anything by now we’re probab- eep!” Her explanation was cut off by a squeak. Harry whirled around, worried that magic had decided to be ironic today.

“Sorry! I… tripped.” Hermione said lamely. She did indeed seem to be clutching the handrailing as if to steady herself, and he was almost ready to take her at face value, but something seemed… off.

“You look hot.” Harry said.

“E-excuse me?” Hermione squeaked. Harry blinked in confusion, before realizing how that statement might be misinterpreted.

“Flushed. Your face is flushed, and your breathing’s heavy too. Are you sure you’re alright? We can always go to Pomfrey.”

“No!” Hermione burst out “I mean, I’m fine. Its fine. I don’t need… its fine.”

Harry was less than convinced, but didn’t know how to persuade her otherwise “Usually you’re the one hounding me to go to the hospital wing.” He snarked. When he was sick, he usually just tried to suck it up and plow through it, it was a recurring struggle for Hermione, who didn’t understand why he refused to do something as simple as go to Pomfrey for a pepper-up potion. Harry didn’t have an answer for her, he didn’t know himself _why_ , other than that asking for help with something so minor made him feel weak, pathetic even. He rubbed the back of his hand instinctively; it wasn’t unlike his struggles with Umbridge and her bloody quill.

Hermione pressed ahead, and Harry turned to follow. No point in making this into a big argument, if she didn’t want to go, whatever it was couldn’t be that serious, and he didn’t seem to be affected at all.

_Damn those stockings look lovely on her legs._

Harry nearly tripped himself at how suddenly that thought surfaced, but his mind didn’t stop. His eyes trailed up to her skirt, her bum… alright that was enough! He forced his eyes straight ahead.

_Okay, where the hell did that come from?_

It wasn’t like he had _never_ noticed Hermione before- she was really lovely at the Yule Ball- but it had never been like _this._ He’d never been faced with the urge to press her to the wall and crash his lips to hers, tear off her clothes- _enough!_

Harry pulled up beside her so that his eyes wouldn’t be glued to her arse, or her legs, but nevertheless he had to fight the pull to turn and glance. He was momentarily, and mercifully, distracted when the flight of stairs they were on jolted and began to swing to an alternative destination.

It was a double-edged sword, though, because now that they were stopped, they had nothing to do but look at each other. When Harry finally risked a glance, he found that Hermione was already _looking_ at him. Harry didn’t need to look down to know what she was looking at. Despite his attempts to ignore it, he was hard, urgently hard, and he knew it must be embarrassingly obvious even through his trousers.

Yet the most shocking thing of all wasn’t _what_ she was looking at, it was _how_ she was looking at it. She was awfully flushed, not just her cheeks, but down her neck… and probably lower, to places Harry had never seen before. Her eyes seemed to burn as the stared down at his tented trousers, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as her face twisted itself into an expression he’d never seen on any girl, but it was nevertheless unmistakable.

Lust, she was looking at him with pure lust.

It was hands down, the most erotic moment of his life to date. It affected him so, that his cock practically leapt in his pants, giving a heated, urgent throb as it expanded to the limit that his uniform trousers made comfortable. He grit his teeth to avoid making a noise that would surely be highly embarrassing, but the damage had been done he was sure.

If Hermione’s reaction to seeing that he was erect shocked him, her response now downright blew his mind. Her eyelids fluttered as she rubbed her thighs together and her mouth opened just slightly to let out a _whimper_. It was a noise that Harry felt in his cock, a tingle in his cockhead that made it twitch again.

This had to stop. “Hermione.” Harry said raggedly, gripping her shoulders firmly. Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes, and she looked so receptive, like she was just waiting for him to decide what to do. Something deep in his chest was telling him if he pressed now, she’d do… she’d do… “I guess we know what that potion did to us.”

“I guess we do.” Hermione said weakly. Feeling a bit awkward, Harry released her shoulders. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself self-consciously. He understood now why she didn’t want to go to the hospital wing. Admit to Madam Pomfrey that you really wanted to shag your best friend, and what would she do? Put them in overnight observation… he’d rather spend the night jerking off in his bunk, thank you very much. “What… what do we do now?”

Merlin, what was she asking him? Did she actually want him to snog her, even more? Neither of them had ever expressed any interest before… they really shouldn’t if the only reason they wanted to was this damn potion. Or maybe she was asking for advice, or sympathy, solidarity. “Well, I’m going to go, er, take care of things before dinner.”

“Take care- you mean, you’re going to…” She trailed off, seemingly unable to bring herself to say the word.

 _Screw it_ , its not like things could get more awkward “Masturbate. Yes, I am.”

“Oh.” Her eyes, god help him, flicked down to his erection, before returning to his face “I’ve never done it before, but…”

Harry shrugged, wishing he had some good advice for her. “It really isn’t a big deal. Nobody’s watching, you aren’t gonna embarrass yourself. Just do what feels good, imagine something that… turns you on.” Wow, it was _weird_ talking about anything sexual with Hermione. Their friendship had been so _so_ far from that its entire existence, and now he was trying to give her pointers on how to get herself off.

Their journey back was made in silence, they made their way through the pre-dinner crowd in the common room, and before the parted towards their respecting dorms, they shared a short, awkward glance.

Thankfully, Harry’s dorms were empty. While he could always put silencing charms on his curtains, it would still be painfully obvious what he was doing if someone saw him get in bed at this time of day. He wasted no time in tugging down his trousers and boxer- not even bothering to take of his button down shirt or uniform jacket, just pulling then up to expose his stomach- and moaned in relief as he grabbed a hold of his cock. Instantly, his mind marinated itself in what he had just experienced- the look of desire on Hermione’s face, her _whimper_ , the way she looked up at him wide-eyed and receptive. It blew every single one of his (admittedly respectfully tame) fantasies of Cho out of the water.

A few short tugs was all it took for Harry to explode in the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. Masturbation had never had a great appeal to him, it felt _good_ , but empty. If his orgasms had felt like _this_ , though, he might have changed his mind. He knew instantly that his shirt was ruined, but he didn’t give jot, he couldn’t _care_ about anything in that moment, other than how _glorious_ his cock felt, pumping, pulsing, ejaculating all over his chest and stomach.

When the last spasms finished, and Harry was ready to relax in the pleasant post-orgasmic feelings, he was dismayed to find that while he’d just cum spectacularly, it had done nothing to help his situation. Not only was he still hard, he felt no less horny, no less desperate for release, than he had before.

 _What? How? What did he need to do to satisfy himself?_ His mind seemed to pull the answer straight from the ether- a vision of Hermione, that look of desire on her face, a single hand exploratively running up and down his cock. Without even realizing it, his hand mimicked the motion in his vision. For a moment, it felt as if she were _actually_ stroking his cock, and the sensation of her hand was like a lightning bolt. He came instantly, his cock eagerly ejecting himself with such force that some splattered across his cheek. He barely noticed that, instead trying to hold onto the vision his brain had provided, her hand around his throbbing, sensitive cock and _that look_ on her face. “Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! _Hermione!_ ” He’d never actually vocalized while masturbating, always afraid someone would hear, but he just couldn’t help himself this time.

Yet, even that orgasm didn’t satisfy. It had been _so good_ , but it still left him feeling urgent and aching. He needed the real thing, not his hand. Accepting defeat, he cleaned himself up. An _evaesco_ worked well on the cum dotting his skin, but left his shirt with a spattered stain that he wasn’t comfortable wearing. Making sure that no one else was in the room still, Harry quickly changed, cramming his hard on back into his trousers and donning a clean, if crumpled, collared shirt, but not bothering with the jacket or tie since classes were done for the day.

He returned to the common room holding a textbook to his body- placed deliberately to try to hid his erection, and sat in a secluded corner to wait for Hermione. His attempts to distract himself by reading were doomed from the start, and he found his eyes wandering. Lavender too had changed after classes, ditching the stockings and flaunting her bare legs. She caught him looking at her, and gave him a saucy wink. Embarrassed, Harry looked away, trying not to ogle every girl that passed his field of view, trying not to notice how Ginny had… developed, or how _nice_ Angelina’s bum looked.

It turned out that he would be waiting for a while, which might have been for the best, as it gave him time to master himself somewhat. He told Ron to go ahead without him while he waited for Hermione, who easily agreed. Slowly, the common room filtered out until just a few straggling second years were left. Finally, just when Harry was thinking that he’d be late for dinner, Hermione appeared, looking much more ruffled than when he last saw her. He couldn’t resist giving her a once over, his cock thrumming needily as he took in her figure, yet wishing her uniform didn’t obscure so much. When his eyes rose to meet hers, he could see her frustration, her desire, and the battle for control raging within her.

“How did it go?” He asked her tentatively.

“Fine.” She replied shortly.

“Do you think you can make it through dinner?”

“Yes, of course.” She said irritably. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.”

Hermione plowed ahead, leaving Harry once again to trail behind and do his best not to perv on his friend. She was irritable, perhaps she didn’t like how he had looked at her? Or maybe it was sexual frustration. Either way, she was rather snappish, and Harry decided to just not engage with her.

Hermione remained visibly agitated throughout dinner- fidgeting constantly and only eating distractedly. Harry knew this because he simply couldn’t keep his eyes off her- in his mind it was better he look at her, who knew what was going on, than offend any other girls. After only perhaps fifteen minutes, Hermione excused herself in a rush.

“What’s with her?” Ron asked.

“No clue.” Harry fibbed. He considered going after her, but he was paranoid that people might cotton on that something was up, so he waited until dinner was wrapping up to leave the table, telling Ron that he might retire early.

Harry took out and activated the Marauders’ map, and after a minute of searching, found Hermione in one of the girl’s bathrooms. He wasn’t sure why the bathrooms didn’t have the same protections that the girl’s dorms did- he hadn’t put much thought into it when he and Ron had intercepted the troll in their first year, or when they were brewing Polyjuice in their second, but that inconsistency seemed a little more salient now.

Harry approached the door, pausing once more to check on the map that no one else was near. He was going to knock, but he hesitated. Would Hermione really want to see him now? She went to be alone, maybe he should just respect that. That thought process was banished when he heard her start to scream. “Oh! Oh! _Oh! Oh GOD! HARRY! HARRYYYYY!”_

She was masturbating. Getting herself off. _To him._ Once again, his cock seemed to react viscerally to her voice- her pure, orgasmic pleasure as called out his name. He was paralyzed by conflicting desires. There was the urge to tug down his pants and jerk one out, right there onto the floor, it might only take one stroke. There was another urge the burst in there and do… and do… do _something_. With a force of will, he acted on neither impulse. Instead, he steeled himself, pushed in the door, and heard her nearly wail “ _No!_ ”. It was a noise of immense frustration and despair, and Harry felt his lust become tempered by sympathy. She must be having the same problem he’d had with masturbation, only she was affected so much worse by the potion.

Hermione let out a piteous sob, and then a series of rhythmic grunts, underscored by a soft _schlick_ that Harry could hardly bring himself to contemplate. “Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. _Uhn. Uhn. Uhn. UHN! UHN! UHHHH! OH! OH! OH!”_ Her grunts increased in volume and intensity, until the morphed into the noises Harry had heard from her earlier “ _OOOOH! OOOOH! HARRY! HARRYYYYY!”_ The entire process might have lasted about a minute. How long had it been since she left? Fifteen minutes?

Finally, his compassion and guilt overpowered the chaotic vortex of emotions roiling within him and compelled him to act. He rapped on the door solidly. Hermione went silent, and Harry belatedly realized she’d have no idea it was him “Hermione, its me.”

“Harry?” Hermione asked, her voice quivering and strained.

“Yes, its me. Its okay. We can work through this.” Harry had no idea what he was doing, he was just saying words and hoping they would improve the situation.

He heard the ruffling of clothes from Hermione’s stall. She didn’t take long, but when Harry saw her, he wondered why she didn’t take longer. Put simply, she looked a mess. She was still remarkably flushed. Her hair, normally untameably bushy, was somehow even messier, with strands hanging in front of her or clinging to her sweat slicked face. Her jacket and dress shirt were haphazardly buttoned, exposing little slivers of bare skin at her stomach and her collar. Her skirt was skewed, hanging downwards on one side.

“ _Harry!_ ” Hermione repeated when she saw him, stepping forward, but keeping one trembling hand on the stall. “I- I- I-”

“Are you okay?” _Dumb question_ he scolded himself _look at her._

“I- I’m not okay.” Hermione said in a wavering voice “I need- I need _it._ ”

Harry didn’t need any clarification on what ‘it’ was. She meant sex. She was asking to have sex with him. The moral question was becoming more and more distant in his mind with Hermione in front of him like this.

“Hermione…” Harry struggled with how to say this “Lets-”

“I know it’s a lot to ask.” Hermione blurted “I can make it up to you. Help you in classes, _anything_.”

Harry gaped at her “What? No!” He wasn’t going to take payment from her, like this was some sort of transaction. Even if he felt no attraction to her, he’d still do this, if only to help her out.

Hermione sobbed, and Harry realized how that might have been interpreted. “Shite. Sorry. I meant I’m not going to make you do anything for me. We can… do it.”

“ _Oh, thank god._ ” Hermione breathed “ _Thank you._ ”

She stumbled to him, her hands steading herself on his shoulders as she looked up at him with wanting eyes. She was so close to him, he could feel the heat of her breath against his face, the warm press of her body, the swell of her breasts. He lowered his head as she rose to meet him, and their lips met.

His only reference point for kisses was the one mediocre on with Cho, which hadn’t been much of a kiss at all, they’d both been so hesitant, Harry because he’d been trying not to do something wrong. 

This kiss was different, more exploratory from the start. It was warm, it was wet, and he couldn’t help but be aware of the fact that this was _Hermione_ , his best friend, someone who he’d never ever thought he’d do this with.

Hermione let out a small, impatient moan, and then her tongue was invading his mouth sloppily. Her fingers threaded through his hair, keeping their mouths locked together as they stumbled back into the stall. Neither of them really knew what they were doing, but that didn’t stop Hermione from attempting to shove her tongue down his throat. 

Harry pressed his body into hers, his needy erection grinding ineffectually against her abdomen while Hermione too was struggling to rub herself against his thigh. He grabbed blindly, and one hand groped her arse. Hermione moaned enthusiastically into his mouth and used the support his grip provided to hook a leg around his waist. It took some time for them to work through their need to mindlessly press their bodies against each other, but after some adjusting Harry was able to lift her up and pin her to the stall. Hermione’s legs hooked around his waist, her skirt riding up so that her panty clad crotch pressed directly against his erection.

Harry thrust forward, pushing his erection into her. Hermione rolled her hips against him in turn, and her mouth fell away from his to let out a series of moans. “Oooooh, oh _Harry!_ I… oh! Oh! Please keep doing that! I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

Harry wasn’t about to stop, especially when it drove such glorious noises from her. When he thrust once more against her, grinding long and hard into her crotch, and she _howled._ “Oh _GOD YESSSS! HARRYYY!_ ” Her hips jerked forward while her hands spasmodically clutched his back, fingers digging into his shirt.

She was coming, Harry realized. _Hermione was coming because of him, because of his cock._ His own urgent desperation took over- he needed to come. With a few, long grinding thrusts, Harry grunted and then cried out “Ahn! Ahn! Hermione!” as he painted the inside of his trousers. 

“Did you hear that?” The voice broke Harry’s focus away from the last dregs of his orgasm. He acted quickly, grabbing the invisibility cloak, draping it over them, and then clapping a hand to Hermione’s mouth. Their faces nearly touched as the stared into each other’s eyes, Harry’s were focused and intense, while Hermione’s were wild and amorous.

He felt her body tremble against his while he silently willed her to stay quite as the footsteps came closer. Two young girls peered into the bathroom “Is everyone alright?” one asked.

After a few moments looking around and finding nothing, they shrugged to each other. “C’mon, it was probably Moaning Myrtle.”

It was only after the echoes of their footsteps faded into the distance did Harry dare release her, and no sooner had he when Hermione’s lips found his again. “Herm- Hermione, wait.” He said firmly, grabbing her shoulders. It was bloody hard to resist her, but after that close call, one of them had to have some sense.

But damn him if she wasn’t making it hard to. The way she looked up to him as he restrained her, so _sultry_ , lit him on fire. “ _Harry._ ” She moaned, arching her chest against his “Don’t stop _now._ ”

“Not here, we need privacy. The room of requirement.” It had been invaluable to them this year with the DA, now they were going to put it to a perhaps less inventive use.

Hermione had agreed, but she nevertheless just _couldn’t_ keep her hands off him, or her lips. While Harry tried to remain restrained, it has hard to do so when Hermione’s hand was constantly groping his arse. It didn’t help that under the invisibility cloak, they were _so close_ together.”

“ _Hermione._ ” He hissed, his frustration boiling over when she grabbed at the bulge of his erection. “Can’t you wait five minutes?”

“I’m sorry. I just… can’t. _I need it_.” This time, she didn’t wait for his assent. She pressed into him, spreading her legs and grinding against his erection with the apex of her thighs. One hand clutched his shirt while the other groped his arse, pulling him against her, her hips twitching into him. Her warm breath wafted against his neck and ear as she moaned “Uhn. Uhn. Oooh! Uhn. Gonna… gonna…”

Harry once again found himself worrying that the noise would give them away, and pushed Hermione into the wall, letting out a soft growl as his mouth descended on hers. He kissed her as firmly as he could, and it was just as well. Hermione whimpered and whined into his mouth as her body shook against his. Her hands clutching at his back and her legs locking around his waist as she rode out her orgasm.

Harry carried Hermione the rest of the way, with her lazily kissing his neck and moaning nothings into his ear while Harry booked it to the room of requirement. _I need a place to fuck Hermione. I need a place to fuck Hermione. I need a place to fuck Hermione._ Reciting those words, even if only in his mind, made it all the more real to him. He was about to fuck Hermione. His best friend.

Harry wasted no time, once they crossed the threshold, he crashed his lips to Hermione’s. He’d spent the evening holding both of themselves back, knowing how easily they could get caught, but now that they were in private the dam came crashing down, formerly restrained lust surging with force.

This time, Harry was the one to devour Hermione. He aggressively, yet clumsily, plunged his tongue into Hermione’s mouth and hoisted her onto the bed. As he came down on top of her, his hand landed on her breast, and he groped it enthusiastically, viscerally enjoying the feel of her pliant flesh, even if separated by layers of fabric. Hermione didn’t seem to mind his lack of finesse. She had folded like a house of cards in the face of his aggression, and her response to him was limited to whimpering, moaning, trembling, and (when her mouth was available) begging.

“ _Oh._ Please. Please. _Please._ I need it.” She pleaded as he ravaged her neck, no doubt leaving a hickey or two “ _I’m so wet._ I _need_ you inside me. Oh, please just _have sex with me already!_ ”

Her words gave him direction. He’d been more or less mauling her mindlessly, until she’d so eloquently reminded him that there was a _reason_ they were here. It didn’t take much, when it came down to it. He stood up- Hermione watching with rapt attention- and shucked off his trousers. His briefs, stained from his earlier orgasm, followed right after, and Harry felt relief as his cock was finally free of its confines. He doubted he’d ever been as urgently hard in his life, and even as he thought this, his cock throbbed involuntarily, engorging a bit more with each pulse. He was already slick from his earlier climax, but he also leaked out pre-cum with each pulse of his cock that now glistened on his cockhead.

The way Hermione was looking at him, at his _cock_ , could have been pulled out of his fantasies. She was transfixed, her eyes black with desire, her mouth parted open and her tongue was swiping across her lips as a series of low, breathy moans escaped them. She looked _ravenous_. She’d tried to do her part, to remove her skirt and knickers, but her hands were trembling so terribly that they were useless, and all of her attention had been diverted the minute his trousers had hit the floor and the outline of his cock had been visible in his briefs.

Harry wasn’t about to wait for Hermione to snap out of it. With quick, decisive motions, he pulled down her skirt and knickers. Her legs parted of their own accord, giving him a perfect view of her sex. She had a proper bush, which was soaked with her arousal, her thighs were also slick and practically dripping. Her slit, though, seemed to be _weeping_. Her sex seemed as flushed and swollen as his, and it was throbbing rhythmically. Meanwhile, glassy eyed stare remained locked on his cock as she moaned. “ _Uhhh. Uhhh. Uhhh.”_

Wait.

Was she _coming?_

Feeling like he was about to miss the train, Harry scrambled on top of her and fumbled to place his cockhead at her entrance. Not knowing what else to do, he thrusted forward. It didn’t seem to catch at first, but after shifting slightly, he got the angle right and _oh_. 

Many things would occur to Harry as he reflected on this moment later that night. It was shockingly easy to push himself in, once he got the angle right. He _glided_ into her so easily that before he knew it he had completely sheathed himself. Nothing could have prepared him for how it felt- to have his achingly sensitive rod enveloped by a woman’s velvety warmth and wetness. He’d never be able to go back to masturbating, his hand couldn’t compare, nothing could compare. So intense it was, that it had blanked his mind the instant he was inside her. 

None of these observations would occur to him until later, in the moment the entirety of Harry’s experience was his cock. He didn’t think, consider, or decide anything, all he did was _cum_. It was almost an insult to compare anything Harry had brought himself to before this encounter to what he was feeling now. If those had been orgasms, then this was a rapture. A pulsing, exploding, purging euphoria, surging through his shaft, churning in his core, and echoing throughout his entire body. He had no idea how long he was like this, moaning and chanting Hermione’s name over and over, emptying himself into her perfect pussy.

He wouldn’t know how Hermione had reacted. How her eyes had rolled back the moment he was at her entrance. How she had _squealed_ as he entered her, how her arousal had sprayed from her cunt, coating Harry’s lower body, how her hands had clutched him close, clenching at his back, and her legs had clamped around his waist, trying to bring him impossibly closer. She howled, and wept, and cried out to the heavens, her entire body shaking as her pussy pulsed around his cock, greedily drinking in every drop of his seed he had to offer.

When Harry came to, his body was still feeling the aftershocks of his climax. His fingers and toes tingled pleasantly, and his cock was still at attention and in the grip of Hermione’s inner flesh. Hermione, for her part, was still moaning softly and trembling as her inner muscles contracted around him.

Harry tried to unsheathe himself, but Hermione wasn’t having it. “No!” She cried out, looking positively unhinged. Her bushy hair was a tangled mess with stray strands clinging to her face, which was wet with sweat and tears. “ _More._ I need _more._ ” She’d lifted her head so that their faces were scarcely an inch apart. There was a wild, deeply desperate look in her eyes that had Harry worried for her, worried that this potion had affected her far too much.

But that brief moment of lucidity was snuffed out as her legs clamped down around his waist once more. He could have fought it, but as he began to sink back into her femininity, the addictive sensation robbed him of any ability to resist. A few short thrusts were all it took for him to spill himself inside her once more. His staying power once again proved nonexistent, but Hermione couldn’t care less. She was gone the moment he’d re-sheathed himself, if she’d ever been ‘there’ at all.

He truly did try to perform for her, to last longer and make sure she was satisfied. But that damn potion… it didn’t matter how many times he’d cum. He’d steel himself as he entered her, and through gritted teeth and frustrated tears the longest he’d lasted was a few thrusts. Thankfully the potion had also taken away Harry’s refractory period completely, allowing him to continue thrusting. The true saving grace, however, was that despite his rather pitiful performance, Hermione was acting like he was a sex god. His every, shuddering thrust was met with moans of euphoria, writhing, and trembling from his partner. When he came (as he did many times) she would lock down around him, ensuring his cock was lodged as deeply as possible, usually grunting rhythmically with his orgasm as she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip with an expression of intense pleasure.

Harry rather suspected that Hermione in the thrall of one, long orgasm, or perhaps a long series of peaks that blended together. Either way, if he could have been said to ‘fail’ his partner, it wasn’t due to his staying power but physical stamina (and very likely, simply receiving a lower dose of the potion). After an indeterminate time of constant thrusting and orgasming, he finally collapsed, resting his sweat slick body against Hermione’s.

“Harry… please… please…” Hermione whimpered piteously in a not quite coherent plea for him to continue. However, she was in no better a state than he, and could only wriggle her hips up into his.

Harry, now that he had a moment to breathe, found that he was actually somewhat sated. With his mind partially clearing, he turned his attention entirely to satisfying Hermione. She whined with such a desperation as he pulled away from her that he felt guilty, but he quickly assuaged her by kneeling between her legs. He’d well and truly fucked her, he’d cum in her again and again, and now he was dribbling out of her. On the one hand, it stoked a sense of masculine pride at having claimed her, filled her with his seed. On the other, if he were sober minded he’d have cringed at the thought of licking up his own cum. But in the heat of the moment he had no such compunctions, he had a mission, and nothing was getting in the way of that.

Harry had no idea how to properly eat out a girl, but Hermione would make it incredibly easy on him. His first, experimental lick along the length of her slit had her moaning loudly and arching her back. The following probing motions of his tongue were also welcomed enthusiastically, but it was when he found her clit, that nub that he _knew_ was supposed to be exquisitely sensitive under normal conditions, that he got the most intense response of the entire evening.

The instant his tongue grazed against the sensitive nub, Hermione sat bolt upright, her body going rigid. He looked up from her curls, meeting her eyes. In them was _something_ a nameless plea, an unspoken surrender. Harry kept his eyes locked with hers, demanding she meet his gaze as he deliberately descended on her, pressing his lips to her clit and _sucking._ She didn’t moan, she didn’t scream, she hardly made any noise other a barely audible, guttural, strangled noise in her throat. Yet her eyes told him everything, he could just _see_ her brain melting down, turning to molten mush and then (metaphorically, of course) dribbling out of her ears. Her entire body was trembling, like she was shaking apart beneath him.

He’d never felt so powerful as he did now, with his lips wrapped around Hermione’s clit. He’d robbed her of her ability to speak, to move, to think, to even _breathe_. He could not have been more in control of her if he’d put her under the imperious, and he was _barely_ even sucking. He wondered how she’d react if he increased the suction just a _bit_ more…

Oh.

It was a bit anticlimactic, but it was also almost a relief. She had collapsed. After checking that she was just asleep, not dead. Harry sighed and crawled into bed next to her, feeling quite ready to join her.

Until his pesky brain reminded him that if he and Hermione stayed the night in this room, they’d be facing a lot of questions that only had one answer. _Damn._

He was tired, very tired. But he looked at Hermione, who looked, at last, peaceful and content, and knew he couldn’t let her down.

“Err, can we get some invigoration draught?” He asked the room at large. “And a shower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. This will be a much shorter story than Po7, maybe 5 chapters long. This was inspired from the aphrodisiac potion that I used in the Power of Seven, but I felt there was more potential for it than what could be used in the context of that fic. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> For those interested, my (newly established) discord: https://discord.gg/aW5k7Ehh72


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione awoke to the sound of a shower running. Awoke perhaps wasn’t completely accurate, as she hadn’t quite been asleep. She had been in something more resembling a trance… her mind shied away from contemplating it too deeply. She forced herself to put it aside, to put the events of the last few hours in a box, lock it up tight, and suppress it. She was in her right mind… mostly, she should be able to manage from here without molesting her friend any further. 

Right?

Her friend, who was in the shower at this very moment. She flushed, as she realized… _naked._ It was then that Hermione understood that no, that potion wasn’t done with her yet, not even _remotely_. Because at even the slightest prompting, her mind conjured the recent memory of him standing over her. His arms were lean yet strong enough to easily life her up and carry her across the school. His chest was well defined, she knew how solid it felt against her and how broad his shoulders were in comparison to her body. 

Any lower, and all she could remember was his penis, jutting provocatively from his body as if projecting his masculine sexuality to the world. An abundance of dark pubic hair framed his sex, contrasting strikingly the red flush of his shaft and the purpling of his swollen cockhead.

The only representation of a penis Hermione had ever seen was from anatomical sketches. They were meant to inform, certainly not to arouse, and Hermione now realized what the anatomy books utterly failed to capture. She was not prepared for how, when finally free of its confines, his penis engorged before her eyes, the shaft throbbing with blood and thickening, the blood vessels flaring, his head expanding. His shaft quivered, twitched, and throbbed, seemingly of its own accord. The tip seemed to weep with what could only be semen, giving Hermione a strong indication as to what the sheen covering the rest of his shaft was. There were a million ways to explain it, physics, biology, but in moment all Hermione’s brain could summon for it was one word _hot._

She threw her previous resolve to leave Harry be out the window. Her reasons didn’t seem nearly so important now, not compared to the desperate _need_ burning in her core and furling across her body. What she needed was to clear her head, and to do that she needed Harry. So without any further deliberation, she padded over to the shower and let herself in.

Harry turned to face her, surprised, but not shocked or offended. Hermione, on the other hand, had been completely unprepared for the effect his body would have on her… again. The shower water ran down his shoulders, chest, and abdomen in rivulets, accentuating his musculature. But what really captured her attention was being able to watch his penis go from flaccid to nearly full hardness in perhaps ten seconds, unfurling and springing up before her eyes.

She choked on nothing, all thought processes dying in an instant. Her heart had nearly tripped over itself and was now redoubling its pace as if to make up for it. It hammered away, she could hear it in her ears, and feel it pounding in her swollen clit. All she could manage to do was gape at him, all of him, her mouth hanging open as attempted words died a strangled death. His name only coming out as a noise “Hannghh!” Burbling from her mouth, the sound failing in her throat and mangled by her tongue. 

“Hermione.” Harry said teasingly “My eyes are up here.”

She nodded absently, the words not particularly registering. It was true that his eyes were up there. Then his hand reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her head up. She was forced to sweep her gaze up column of his upper body, until she met his eyes. At that point, an amount of self-awareness returned to her and she felt abashed, but mostly, she enraptured by his piercing gaze. His eyes burned intensely into hers and his smile was confident, even cocky. He had her at his mercy and he _knew it_.

His thumb swept beneath her lip and wiped away a bit of drool. “Did you want something, Hermione?” He asked her far too casually.

“Hnnngh… _yesssss._ ” Hermione gasped laboriously. “Pleasssee!” In response, Harry placed his hands on her shoulders and backed her into the wall. One of his hands then slid its way downward, taking a detour to cup one of her breasts and trace around her nipple. At this point he got sidetracked, clearly enamored. His teeth worried his lower lip as he fondled her with increasing enthusiasm, and his penis began to twitch insistently, a sure sign of his attraction to her. 

She’d rarely even thought of herself as beautiful, let alone sexy. At any point before today Hermione would have been offended by a boy looking at her like a piece of meat, as Harry was with her breasts, or by even the notion that she should feel gratified to be able to make a bloke’s penis hard. Now, though, with Harry, she found the experience as gratifying as even the warmest praise from a teacher. It was a shot of dopamine that had her puffing out her chest.

Hermione _wanted_ to make him hard, to make him desire her, to cum for her. She reached a hand down to his shaft, intent on feeling him in her hand, but Harry intercepted her, grabbing her by the wrist and pinning her hand to the wall. “No. You don’t get to touch me.”

Part of Hermione wanted to object at this arbitrary and one-sided restriction. She was sure there were persuasive arguments she could make, but as her eyes flickered from Harry’s powerfully hard shaft to his domineering stare, she was coming up blank. She cast around for the words, even the concepts needed to make her case but… nothing. “Uh, huh, but…”

“But what?” Harry teased, his hand now trailing lower, down her stomach, causing her abdominal muscles to twitch reflexively. Deep in her core, her anticipation kicked up a notch, and _thinking_ became ever more elusive.

“Uhh, uhhh, uuuuuhn…” She was so urgent- swollen, wet, and needy. His fingers ran through her bush and rounded her pubic mound. Her clit was engorged, practically crying for attention. It was easy for Harry to find, and with the slightest touch of his finger… “IEEEEEE!”

Her legs turned to jelly, and Hermione found herself collapsing against him. Despite his recent ‘no touching’ rule, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her and cradle her body against his. “Hey” He said “Are you alright?” She looked up at him, practically melting at the compassion in his voice and in his eyes. 

A potent emotional cocktail was welling up in her in the wake of her climax. She’d always known, intellectually, that he was taller and stronger than her, but it was different now, her cheek resting against his wide chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, looking up at his staring tenderly back down at her. She felt so small and vulnerable next to him, but also _protected_. He was kind and selfless. He’d _never_ let anything happen to her, and she felt so safe in his arms.

Even now… here she was completely helpless. He could have made her do _anything_ , she’d have agreed in a heartbeat, but he was just _taking care of her._ She felt a surge of gratitude and affection so strong she thought her heart might burst. She was distantly aware that she must be looking at him with an adoring, besotted expression, but she couldn’t help herself. A few stray tears sprang from her eyes, and she knew Harry’s concern for her must have doubled. “I’m sorry, was it too much?”

She shook her head fervently, not sure if she could find the words to properly express herself, in large part due to her not fully understanding what she was feeling either. “No.” She managed “Please… keep going.”

One thing, she was certain of, being closer to him had only inflamed her libido. His masculine scent enveloped her as surely as his chest and arms did, and that was to say nothing of his penis, which was pressed right against her stomach. The shower had shut off, so she didn’t even have that as cover for how utterly _wet_ she was.

Then, suddenly, she was up against the wall again, the only difference being now Harry was pressed intimately against her, his hand wedged between them in position to stimulate her sex. She’d been hoping to feel him inside her again, but who was she to question it? It so easy to let the magic of his fingers take her away, swirling around her clit and bring her to orgasm after orgasm. More tears came as both the physical pleasure and her emotions became too much to contain. “Yes. Yes! _Yes!_ Thank you. _Thank you!_ ” She babbled, and then “ _I love you!_ ”

**\-----**

Harry made sure they returned to the common room by a reasonable time. He flat out refused her offer to ‘help him’ any further, saying that if she did that, they’d probably wouldn’t be able to stop.

She was inclined to agree. After orgasming god knows how many times, she was… sated when they left the Room of Requirement. The feeling of almost giddy affection for Harry remained, and she’d had to restrain herself from being too obvious with it. She’d already told him through tears that she loved him a dozen times that night, but at least then she could excuse it as being in the heat of the moment.

Unfortunately, this state of affairs didn’t last long. Halfway back to the common room, Hermione found her eyes glued to Harry’s bum. How hadn’t she noticed he had such a nice bum before?

The remainder of the evening would be torture for her. Harry had been a life-saver. Before entering the common room he’d given her his invisibility cloak- ‘just in case’. He had explained away their absence- practicing spells for a DA lesson- while Hermione nodded along. While they received a few skeptical looks, it could have been a lot worse, and it truly was thanks to both his lie and his insistence on getting them back sooner. Afterwards, Hermione sat herself in the corner of a room and propped open a particularly voluminous book.

Not that she actually read it. No, she was far too preoccupied, but it was a convenient way to hide herself in plain sight and appear busy. She peaked over the top of her book to glimpse the object of her interest- _Harry._

Right now, he was talking with Ron and Ginny. The redheaded girl was pretty transparent to Hermione, the way she leaned in and hung onto Harry’s every word with rapt attention. It was clear she’d never gotten over him, Hermione could have seen that even if she’d never had to share a room with the girl and hear her whimpering Harry’s name at night when Ginny thought she was asleep.

Sure, she was dating Michael Corner, but Harry could have her if he wanted. She’d drop everything for him, including her panties. She rather thought that Ginny needed to mature a little more before she was ready for a relationship with Harry, but she had imagined that she would have been happy for them if they ever got together. Now, though… the thought of it made her want to gut herself.

It was a reminder that there were many, girls who were hoping for a shot at Harry. Girls that were hotter than her- who nicer hair and perfect teeth and bigger breasts. The only thing stopping them was his endearing obliviousness to it all. Harry was out of her league. He was kind, brave, noble and _incredibly_ attractive.

Her mind latched onto that last thought as she continued to _observe_ her friend. Harry glanced in her direction, alerting Hermione to the fact that she had been staring at him for too long. She quickly jerked her eyes back down to her book, a blush staining her cheeks. She grabbed her wand and cast a murmured drying charm on her panties. _Keep it together._ She told herself, shifting in her seat. _Just don’t think about Harry. Don’t think about what he looks like naked, don’t think about how his penis felt inside of you, thrusting, throbbing, pumping his semen inside you._

It was then that the penny dropped.

Neither of them had use any form of protection. Her heart turned to ice.

She could get _pregnant_.

How could she have been so irresponsible? Harry had cum in her again and again, and he’d done so copiously if how much had leaked out after was any indication. He was so _virile_ , and she’d just let him seed her _unprotected womb_.

Hold on, where had _that_ come from? She… she _couldn’t_ be turned on by this. She _refused!_ The crisis of potentially being pregnant was momentarily eclipsed in her mind by the crisis of being turned on by the thought. _No. No. No. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t even think about it._ With a white knuckled grip on her wand, she hissed the incantation to the drying spell once more, trying with all her might to deflect the rising tide of arousal. Yet the _wrongness_ of it seemed to only be fuel to the fire. Her imagination was careening out of control. He’d cum in her so many times, there must be a _legion_ of sperm inside her right now. She couldn’t even rely on her cycle to save her. She quickly did the math... _Oh god,_ she was right in the middle of her cycle. Her body was _primed_ and ready to be impregnated.

That was the limit for Hermione. She didn’t care that it would look suspicious, she had to get out of there. She retreated to her dorm room, pulled the curtains around her bed, put up a silencing charm and basic privacy wards. She didn’t bother even getting out of her clothes, simply shoving her skirt and panties to her knees and going to town. 

She was in the same situation now as when Harry had found her in the bathroom, except if anything it was _worse_ now because she had the memory of that evening to draw on and inform her fantasies- which were now far more potent. While Harry had been quite careful with her sensitive flesh, Hermione couldn’t help but mash her hand into her sex, fingers scrabbling at her clit with desperation, tearing orgasm after brutal orgasm from her. Images, sensations, thoughts flashed through her head, before being wiped away by her climax, only to return anew. Harry’s manhood inside her, pumping his semen into her- _hnng_ – the humiliation of being pregnant of 15- _hnnng!_ \- everyone would know how much of a _slut_ she was, her career would be _ruined_ \- _Hnnngg_! None of these orgasms satisfied her. She had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that if she just threw herself into this that she could somehow purge herself of this fantasy. But each orgasm only stoked it further, fed the need in her core.

This continued until her poor clit, bruised and abused by her reckless technique, refused to go any further. Despite her clit being torturously over-sensitized and painful to the touch, Hermione was left with a gnawing, chasmous emptiness in her core that just _needed_ to be filled. She plunged her fingers into her sex, but they proved fully inadequate, if anything a taunting reminder of what they weren’t, of what her body truly craved- the feel of Harry’s body against hers, strong and reassuring, and his penis… his _cock_ inside her.

Oh god, she needed his cock so badly. She’d do anything just to have it sliding into her _cunt,_ filling her completely. But he was surely still downstairs, there was no way she could get to him without making a scene. Hermione sobbed in agony, she was trapped. Her mind reeled, scrambling to find some sort of way out, any way out. Her hand found her wand, and a desperate idea formed. Shaking, she pointed the wand at herself and said “ _Stupefy._ ”

\-----

Harry could only hope that Hermione was sleeping well. He’d tried, really tried to hold everything together, to satisfy her while keeping it secret. Yet he noticed her going to bed rather early, clearly distressed. Thankfully, no one else seemed to pay her any mind, but it left Harry worried for her. At the same time, what could he do? She was in the girl’s dorms, he couldn’t exactly follow her there.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t still ‘feeling it’, but it was far more manageable for him now. He’d contemplated getting himself off before bed, but decided against it, knowing it wouldn't properly satisfy him.

His concerns for Hermione would come to a head later that night. After a few hours of fitful sleep, he stirred as he heard his bedcurtains rustle and felt his mattress shifted as if a weight had been added to it. The curtains rustled again, and he heard her mutter several privacy spells. He blinked groggily, not seeing anything, until the air in front of him distorted as she slid off the invisibility cloak.

With the only illumination coming from the lumos charm on her wand, and his glasses being on the bedside table, Harry could barely make out any details. His vision useless, he let his eyes drift shut and focused on his other senses- the sound of her harsh breathing and the scent thickening around him that could only be from her arousal. She tugged the covers off him, exposing his lower body to cold air and unveiling his hardening cock.

“Oh _fuck_ , his _cock._ ” Hermione moaned to herself. Slick fingers, and he didn’t need to ask _how_ they’d gotten wet, wrapped around the shaft and titled him up. Without any further preparation, Harry found his cockhead enveloped. He was proud to have restrained his reaction to a subtle whine, while Hermione grunted out “ _FUCK!”_ while her inner muscles clenched around his tip. She must have cum.

She followed this up by sheathing him completely, a motion that was accompanied by another moan from Harry that was completely drowned out by Hermione’s bellowing as she presumably orgasmed once more. Her language had gotten cruder… he liked it.

She began to rock on him, slowly dragging herself up and down his shaft and grinding when she bottomed out. She’d slumped over, her hands placed on either side of him as she slowly rode him. She was muttering to herself now, comments that seemed to be aimed at working herself up rather than directed towards him. She hadn’t made any attempt to address him, or to even see if he was awake. It was interesting, getting a peak at her unfiltered thoughts. “Mmm, fucking cock. So good.” Something along those lines was a common refrain, along with “God, he’s so fucking hot.” That one in particular boosted Harry’s pride.

She came several times, as far as he could tell from the intensity of her moaning and the delicious sensation of her clenching around his cock, and it wasn’t long before he was close as well. Hermione noticed it, too. “Fuck, he’s throbbing so much. He’s gonna cum in me. He’s gonna seed me. He’s gonna… gonna…” Her voice grew more impassioned as her thrusting intensified in equal measure, drawing him ever closer to his peak.

Something about her language should have raised a red flag, in Harry’s mind, but he was too far gone at that point. The slow buildup to his climax paid off unexpectedly for him. Compared to the short, intense bursts of his earlier orgasms, this one lasted. It felt decadent, how his cock shuddered and pumped into her enveloping flesh again and again. He was moaning, it would be obvious to her that he was awake if she weren’t in throes of her own orgasm.

Hermione’s response only ensured that his orgasm would be particularly spectacular. “FUCK!” She cursed, ramming herself down on him and keeping him fully hilted in her. Her inner walls pulsed around him in time with his own rhythm, ensuring that his pleasurable contractions just _kept going_. “Cum! Cum! So deep! Seed me! _Breed_ me! HAAAAH!”

With her climax spent, Hermione collapsed into his chest, within seconds she was out cold, and after a few minutes she started snoring lightly. Feel sated and lethargic post-climax, Harry happily joined her in a comfortable sleep.

His tiredness and the deepness of his sleep explained why the next time he woke up, Hermione was coming around him. Her moans and contractions successfully stirring him to wakefulness. This session proceeded much like the last, except that Hermione seemed much less coherent, mostly moaning out single words- ‘cock!’, ‘cumming!’, and ‘fuck!’ were her favorites, if she used any words at all.

While there was a part of him that felt a tad used, most of him just felt terrible for her. He knew she didn’t want to be like this, that it was being forced upon her. He could put up with a little weirdness if it helped her get over this thing. He also worried how she’d look back on this once she was in a better state of mind, would she be disgusted with herself? With him for going along with it?

The third time was the last, and by far shortest. Hermione had woken him up, as usual, by mounting him. She started thrusting down into him, the sound of her grunts and the slap of her skin against his was strangely erotic, but it wouldn’t last long- no more than thirty seconds before she cried out and collapsed back into him.

The next time, he woke _her_ up. Morning was coming and she really should be in her bed when her roommates got up. He didn’t address what had transpired yesterday or overnight, but the shame on Hermione’s face was clear to see. Harry’s sympathy swelled for her, and he gave her a slight, comforting smile. “Hey, its okay.” He told her.

Hermione beamed back at him, she opened her mouth to say something, but whatever it was, she stopped herself at the last minute. Instead, she just said “Thank you.” Before slipping under his cloak and leaving.

It was only after she left, leaving Harry to his thoughts, that he put the pieces together. They hadn’t been using protection, this entire time!

He felt like shit. He should have known. To be sure, she should have known, but she was drugged out of her mind right now! _Wait…_ there was no way she didn’t know, he realized. A few of her comments last night suddenly made a lot more sense. Harry didn't even know what the think.

God, there had to be a way of magically… taking care of this situation. He just had no idea how. No one had given him ‘the talk’, he didn’t know what their options were! His go to resource, the only person he’d think to rely on in such a situation was… Hermione herself.

There was no way around it, they needed to talk, as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Hermione.


End file.
